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Poetry

In The Interim

In the interim, I will be less.

I will be quieter, complacent, and empty.

I will take long baths locked behind a door

in silence.

In the interim, I will be smaller.

I will fit myself inside of a chair.

I will gather myself on a couch

wrapped in a quilt

in a ball

smaller and smaller.

I will wander through hallways unseen.

I will sleep in dark corners.

It isn’t enough to be something,

to fill up days with form and presence.

It isn’t enough to be a ghost.

I will be less than a ghost,

less than a shadow.

I will be a quiet, unseen, forgotten poltergeist

taking baths behind locked doors in darkness

and candlelight.

Not a sound.

I will fill up no space,

take up no time,

speak no words.

I will be nothing,

a no one,

a not somebody.

In the interim, I will disappear

and never be accounted for.

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by Tracy Barbour

I am a writer and poet living in Brooklyn, NY. My pronouns are she/her. I am also an Army veteran and a domestic violence survivor. I have a change & transformation coaching practice that combines holistic practices as well as practical strategies focused on helping others cultivate joy and build harmony in their life, work, career, and business. My superpower is empathy. I have an open heart, am an authentic listener, and a genuine guide.


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